Monsters in the Night
by MariJuanaBreath
Summary: Tensions are high when Draco Malfoy is found close to death in the Forbidden Forest. Something wicked this way comes. *Vampires / Werewolves* MA Audience Advised. Multiple ships.
1. The First Attack

**_Author's Note:_**

**Hello all! This is a story I've been thinking about for a while, and I think I'm finally going to start writing it! Keep in mind, this story will take place during their 6th year, although some of the information from prior books/movies have been tweaked to better fit the story. Think of it as an Alternate-Universe piece, if that helps.**

**A few disclaimers before you move forward!**

_**Disclaimers: This story will have descriptions of gore and blood (things like broken bones, gashes, and other grotesque things.) Alongside, this story will probably, at some point in time, have some descriptions of a sexual nature. If you are uncomfortable reading content that has either of those, this won't be the story for you.**_

**Make sure to follow this story to get notifications when this story is updated, and leave a comment if you want to!**

**Get ready for some angsty romance and lots of supernatural action.**

**Enjoy! xxx**

* * *

**_Chapter One: The First Attack_**

**Harry's P.O.V.**

* * *

They whispered as though no one was around to hear them. Like they weren't in the middle of the library, surrounded by other students.

"Do you think it was Hagrid who did it? He was the only one out there with him, wasn't he?" A small, second-year Hufflepuff looked around his table of friends with wide eyes.

"Of course not." A Ravenclaw girl with golden hair beside him scoffed. She rolled her eyes at such a suggestion. "Hagrid would never harm a student."

"It is a bit coincidental though, isn't it?" An older Hufflepuff at the table said. He looked deep in thought for a moment before he turned to the Gryffindor girl with dark hair beside him. "I mean, wasn't he also attacked during Hagrid's class a few years ago?"

"That was different. He did that to himself." The Gryffindor girl was quick to come to Hagrid's aid.

"Melanie said she saw him being carried out of the forest." The small Hufflepuff chimed in again. His eyes grew bigger with every word he spoke. "She said he was covered in blood. It tripped down his arms and left a trail on the ground behind them."

"You don't think he's… _dead_, do you?" The Gryffindor girl asked. She looked uncomfortable and glanced over her shoulder, as though to ensure that his ghost was not standing just behind her.

Harry caught eyes with her and held them. He tried his best to keep his anger at bay, but he was sure it showed on his face more than he'd have liked it to. The girl, a fifth year by the name of Emily, whipped back around and hushed the group after catching his gaze. She coerced them to get back to work, but Harry still couldn't pull his eyes away from the group.

He couldn't believe they had the audacity to question Hagrid. Of course it hadn't been him. No one in their right mind would believe that Hagrid would have attacked a student in the middle of the night. Not even one as annoying as Draco Malfoy.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to focus on his potions paper, and still brimming with anger and disbelief, he started to pack up his things. His hands shook as he forced the last bit of parchment into his bag before he snatched it and hurried out of the library. He couldn't remember another time he had ever been so angry.

Taking a quick right and heading down the staircase towards the school's entrance, he scanned the grounds for Hagrid's tall, bulky frame. He had refrained from going looking for him earlier, knowing that he probably had a lot on his plate at the moment, but he didn't think he could stand it any longer. He had to ask Hagrid what had happened that night in the Forbidden Forest. What had attacked Draco Malfoy so badly to have sent him to St. Mungo's through the emergency floo network. Whatever it was had to have been far worse than a pissed off Hippogriff's talons.

"Harry!"

He turned at the sound of his name and stalled in his mad dash across campus when his eyes landed on the familiar mane of Hermione Granger. She sat under a large tree by the Black Lake's edge. Ron Weasley's lanky figure was sprawled out on the ground next to her, hoisted up onto his elbows to look out to where Hermione had called.

Harry glanced once more over at Hagrid's hut before he admitted defeat and began to trudge his way over to his friends.

"You're still thinking about it," Hermione said when Harry had caught up to them and sat himself down on the ground.

"What?" He asked, trying to play dumb. He knew Hermione would never fall for that.

"About Malfoy's detention," Hermione said. She closed the heavy tomb she had been reading and looked at him closely. "Everyone knows Hagrid didn't do it –"

"But they _don't_," Harry said loudly. Hermione and Ron both winced at his aggressive tone, but he was far too frustrated to care. "I just overheard some students in the library talking about how it's coincidental for Malfoy to have been injured twice while being in Hagrid's care."

"Well, it is a bit coincidental." Ron mused.

Harry shot him an astounded look.

"As far as coincidences go… I mean." Ron mumbled when he realized how his words sounded out loud. "But we all know it's just a coincidence."

"And that Hagrid would _never_ harm a student," Hermione said firmly, looking quite sure of herself.

"He'd be my hero, though, if he had done it." Ron continued, sounding dreamy. "A world rid of Malfoy. Can you imagine it?"

Hermione shot him an annoyed glare. "Honestly Ronald, how can you even say that?"

"Oh, come off it," Ron argued, rolling his eyes. "The guy's a menace. If it were up to me, I'd be giving Hagrid an award right about now."

"Just because Malfoy is a complete ass, that wouldn't give Hagrid the right to –"

"Hagrid didn't do anything!" Harry exploded, unable to keep his anger in any longer. "He wouldn't have! Whatever happened to Malfoy was his own fault."

A hush of silence fell over them. The sun shone down through the branches of the tree overhead and a gentle, warm breeze rustled the leaves around them. If it weren't for the feeling of impending doom and suffocation in Harry's chest, he would've dared say it was the most beautiful day he'd ever seen. Ron had laid himself back down on the ground, using his bag as a pillow.

"Harry," Hermione said gently.

He didn't want to look at her. He knew she was going to say something completely sensible and logical, and quite frankly, he didn't want to hear it. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be allowed to be angry.

"Dumbledore would never allow them to take Hagrid away. You know he wouldn't." Hermione continued when it seemed apparent that Harry wasn't going to give her the time of day. "He didn't let them take Hagrid away back when they thought he opened the Chamber of Secrets and he's not going to let them take him away now."

Harry stayed quiet as he gazed out over the Black Lake. He knew, deep down, that she was right, as she always seemed to be. But Dumbledore's lack of presence around the school this year made it hard for Harry to trust that he'd do something about this situation. For now, he supposed, there was no use in being upset about it.

"As for Malfoy," Hermione said. "I heard he was still at St. Mungo's in a coma with some pretty severe injuries."

"Dreams really do come true." Ron joked.

Hermione glared at him before she pushed on. "St. Mungo's is a wonderful institute with experienced healers. He'll be out by the end of the week."

Harry glanced around at the other students out enjoying the sunshine. Perhaps he was imagining it or hallucinating, but something in the pit of his stomach told him that everyone was talking about the accident in the forest. He turned back to Hermione. "Hagrid hadn't done anything to Malfoy, but something did. Whatever it was that had landed Malfoy in St. Mungo's intensive ward is still out in the forest." Hermione looked at him with worried eyes and that made him even madder if it were possible. "What?" He asked defensively.

Hermione bit her lip, as though battling with something inside of her. "Harry… you can't go looking for it. You know that, don't you?" Harry didn't say anything. "Whatever attacked Malfoy will attack you too if you go. And with how things are lately…" She paused. "You just can't risk it."

Harry knew she was right. She was always right. With half the wizarding world looking over their shoulders for more Death Eater attacks, and Hogwarts being continuously under surveillance, the last place Harry should be is out in the Forbidden Forest tracking down monsters. Lost in thought, he almost didn't hear Ron shuffling to sit up.

"_Dumbledore_."

Harry and Hermione both turned to follow Ron's gaze up to the hill back to the castle's entrance. Dumbledore stood in his familiar robes with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape by his side. Harry stood to his feet. He wanted to race up there and demand that Dumbledore tell him what was going on, but he knew from last year that wouldn't work. When Dumbledore didn't want to talk to someone, he became the most evasive man on the face of the Earth.

A hush fell over the grounds as more and more students began to become aware of their Headmaster's sudden presence. In a matter of seconds, Dumbledore had everyone's undivided attention. He pulled from within his pocket his long wand and pressed the tip against his throat to amplify the sound of his voice. "As of tonight, until further notice, all students are to report to their dormitories before nightfall. All Quidditch practices are henceforth suspended." A low rumble of shock and disapproval began to radiate through the ground. "All Quidditch games are henceforth suspended. Any other late-night activities outside of this castle's walls are henceforth prohibited." It could've been a trick of the light, but Harry thought he saw Dumbledore's eyes turn to fall on him. "Given the circumstances of the last 24 hours, it would not be wise to wander the castle at night… Should anyone be found gallivanting about after hours, they will be escorted home. _Immediately_."

Harry froze upon hearing this. A heavy ball started to manifest in the pit of his stomach. This had to be serious. Dumbledore had never threatened to send students home before. He had always believed that the safest place for his students to be was at Hogwarts.

Everyone seemed to have frozen in time, waiting with bated breath for Dumbledore to explain what _circumstances_ he was referring to. But with a sudden flick of his robes, their headmaster turned on a dime and disappeared back into the castle with McGonagall and Snape hot on his tail.

"That's it?" Harry said out loud, flabbergasted. "That's all we get?"

"Maybe that's all he's allowed to tell us," Hermione said, though she looked just as unnerved as Harry felt.

"Yeah, I mean, a student was nearly mauled to death in our back yard," Ron said. He glanced over his shoulder at the dark parameter of the Forbidden Forest. "He has to choose his next few steps carefully. We could lose both him and Hagrid if this goes poorly."

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't know what he could say. He wished Malfoy was back at the castle so he could hunt him down and interrogate the pompous ass himself.

"Come on," Hermione said. Her fingers touched at Harry's elbow and gave a gentle tug on his sleeve. "Let's go get something to eat."

He wasn't hungry, but he knew Hermione wouldn't let him stay out here by himself. He took a breath and tried to force himself to relax. "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

By the time dinner came around, a whole new batch of gossip had begun to circulate throughout the castle. It would seem that Hagrid attacking Malfoy wasn't dramatic enough. Now, with Dumbledore having set a new curfew and canceled all outdoor activities until further notice, and refusing to explain the mysterious _circumstances_ with which he had enforced said curfew, a new theory had started to form. That not only had Malfoy been attacked by some grotesque creature living in the Forbidden Forest, but he had been attacked by a creature sent straight from Voldemort himself.

"Impossible," Harry said firmly when Hermione had brought it up. "Malfoy is a Death Eater now. Voldemort wouldn't have attacked one of his own."

Hermione scoffed at this behind her cup of tea.

"What?" Harry asked defensively, setting his fork back down on his plate.

She sighed and set her cup down before she looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a skeptical look. "So you think Malfoy just attacked himself in the forest that night? He got tired of living?"

Harry glowered at her attempt to joke. He couldn't understand why it was so hard for her to believe that Malfoy had become a Death Eater over the summer. It was obvious. The whole lot of his family had been tied up in Voldemort's crap since day one. Harry had seen Lucius Malfoy with his own eyes that night in the cemetery during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Why didn't she believe him? What more evidence could she possibly want? "Then why would he go after Malfoy in the first place?" Harry tried to counter. "I mean, it's only Malfoy. What threat could he have possibly imposed upon him?"

Hermione looked deep in thought over this. "Maybe he talks too much." She offered. "You have to admit; the boy never shuts up. Maybe he was gloating about something his father had done, and it had gotten back to Voldemort."

Harry looked at her incredulously. Of all the reasons she could have come up with, she went with this one?

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't know why Voldemort would want Malfoy dead. I just think…"

Her silence caused Harry to look up from his plate. But she was no longer looking at him. Her eyes had wandered to the Great Hall's double doors and she looked uncomfortable and in sudden pain. Harry followed her gaze to see Ron enter the Great Hall with Lavender Brown, his new girlfriend, hanging off his arm. They were laughing about something or another while Lavender caressed the side of his face lovingly.

"Excuse me, I have to leave," Hermione said as she reached for her books in a hurry.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked. For the first time that day, the incident with Malfoy had completely evaporated from his mind.

"Anywhere but here," Hermione grumbled before she took off at a hurried walk.

Harry watched her leave, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and alone. He knew Hermione had been having some problems dealing with Ron and his new girlfriend. And while Harry couldn't say he particularly enjoyed the new addition to their group, he couldn't say there was anything really wrong with Lavender. She was just a bit loud and over affectionate. But to be fair, Ron seemed to enjoy it. Hermione's anger towards the other girl, however, seemed to be about more than just Lavender being annoying.

"Where'd she run off to in such a hurry?" Ron asked when they arrived at the end of the table near where Harry was sitting.

"The library, I think." Harry guessed, trying to appear casual as he went back to his food.

While Lavender and Ron prattled on about upcoming Quidditch practices and trips to Hogsmeade, Harry couldn't find it in himself to participate in their conversation. His eyes kept shifting towards the Slytherin table. Malfoy's crew seemed to be particularly quiet since their leader's incident in the Forbidden Forest. Pansy Parkinson looked the worst of them all. Even from across the hall, Harry noticed the redness around her eyes and cheeks from recent crying.

Something told him that whatever had happened to Malfoy in the forest, Pansy knew about it.

He watched her closely, noting the way she avoided the conversations around her. When her eyes darted around to meet his, he was quick to look away, pretending to be fascinated in whatever Lavender was talking about. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her stand quickly from the table and head for the doors.

Before he had much time to think about what he was doing, he was already wiping his hands. "I'll see you guys later." He said half-heartedly to the couple across from him before he got to his feet and hurried after Pansy's quickly receding figure.

He caught up with her just as she had begun to descend down into the dungeons. He was surprised that a girl so small could move so quickly.

"Hey, wait." He called after her when she seemed determined to evade him by taking a quick left around a corner. "What happened to him." He reached out to grab her sleeve, but she was faster and yanked her arm out of his reach.

"What?" She asked, sounding annoyed.

"Malfoy. What happened to him in the forest?"

Pansy glared through a fresh shine of unshed tears. "What do you care?"

"You know what attacked him, don't you?" Harry asked. His heart had begun to pound inside his chest. "Tell me what it was."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pansy said. She turned on her heels to leave again.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "Yes, you do. Tell me what he's planning –"

With a quick jerk, Pansy yanked herself free. Now she looked furious. "No, I don't! Okay? I don't know anything about what's going on with Draco."

Harry stared at her hard. He couldn't tell whether she was lying or not.

"He's in the hospital. He might even be dead!" The tears that had been in her eyes suddenly started racing down her cheeks. Harry had to admit, he was shocked at how much she seemed to care for such a pompous ass like Draco Malfoy. "I can't tell you what you want to know." She squared her shoulders. "So just leave me alone." She hissed between clenched teeth before she turned and started off for the Slytherin common room. This time, Harry let her go.

He watched her flee around the corner and felt more confused than before. With how much Draco Malfoy loved to talk, as Hermione had pointed out earlier, he couldn't help but be taken off guard with how little his friends seemed to know. This made his suspicions grow even more. Whatever Malfoy's plan is, Harry would find out and he would stop him.

* * *

**Hermione's P.O.V.**

The circumstances with which Draco Malfoy received detention had seemed a bit odd to Hermione. While he had always focused his bullying and pranks on the students around him, more specifically the younger students, he had never had the gull to pull anything against a professor. And yet, he had stood in the middle of a full classroom and had a full-on argument with Professor McGonagall until she had screamed at him to get out of her classroom. The sight had been unsettling, to say the least.

But to think that Malfoy would have purposely gotten himself in trouble and had purposely planned to go out into the Forbidden Forest with the intent of getting mauled just seemed too bizarre. Especially for a coward like Malfoy. No, it had to be a complete accident. He had probably wandered off on his own, thinking he could handle himself and was instead proven entirely wrong. That seemed to fit his narrative better.

Still, listening to Harry babble on about Death Eater plans and Voldemort's intents to use Malfoy as an inside source was starting to do her head in. She sighed and set her cup down on the table before she turned to Harry, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "So you think Malfoy just attacked himself in the forest that night? He just got tired of living?"

Harry glared at her, but she couldn't find it in herself to take him seriously. If he would just take a second to really listen to what he was saying and take a step back from his previously established distaste for Malfoy, he would hear just how insane he sounded. "Then why would he go after Malfoy in the first place? I mean, it's only Malfoy. What threat could he have possibly imposed upon him?"

This question stumped her. For as big and tough as Malfoy liked to pretend he was, they had all seen him in action. Cowardly and afraid, and he'd always resort back to fleeing before he ever stood his ground and fought back. So why would Voldemort have taken such an interest in him, if any at all? She shrugged. "Maybe he talks too much." She concluded. "You have to admit; the boy never shuts up. Maybe he was gloating about something his father had done, and it had gotten back to Voldemort."

Harry looked at her like she had lost her mind, which caused her to roll her eyes.

"Look, I don't know why Voldemort would want Malfoy dead. I just think…" She felt herself trail off but couldn't find it in herself to press forward with her thought. A flash of red hair over Harry's shoulder had dragged her attention away from him.

Ron strolled into the Great Hall late, which was incredibly unusual for him. Attached to his arm in a vice-like grip was Lavender Brown, a sight that, unfortunately, was not so unusual anymore. Hermione didn't know what was wrong with her. It wasn't like Ron was her boyfriend, or anything close to it. But seeing him with Lavender permanently attached to his hip made her stomach churn in a way that she wasn't used to.

She wasn't jealous. She couldn't be. How could she be jealous of something that was never hers in the first place? It was ridiculous. Besides, it was Ron. Obviously, her feelings of jealousy centered around him as a friend. Nothing more.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice the duo had started making their way towards where Harry and Hermione sat before it was almost too late. Knowing she wouldn't be able to sit here quietly and watch the vomit-inducing displays of affection that would come with the new addition, she scrambled to grab her textbooks from the table and shove them back into her bag. She could feel Harry's eyes on her.

While Harry hadn't ever openly said anything to her, she knew he had started to notice her strange behavior. She kicked herself for being so painfully obvious and could feel a light blush beginning to creep up into her cheeks. "Excuse me," she tried to sound casual. "I have to leave."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked. Now he looked concerned.

"Anywhere but here," Hermione muttered before she stood and hurried down the long table towards the door. She tried her best to avoid making eye contact as she passed Ron and Lavender on the other side of the table. Her heart felt like it had plummeted down into her stomach. What was wrong with her?

With a brisk shake of her head, she sped up and disappeared from the Great Hall.


	2. A Changing World

_**Author's Note:**_

**Chapter two has arrived! Around the same size as chapter one, but please note that chapters will be expanding and growing longer as the story advances.**

**Beginnings are always the hardest for me. I just want to skip right to all the action. Luckily, I got to incorporate a bit of action into this part - with more to come as the chapters go on.**

**Leave a comment if you wish, and make sure to follow/favorite to get notifications when the story has been updated!**

_**Disclaimers:**__** This story will have descriptions of gore and blood, explicit scenes of a sexual nature, and other similar graphic content. If you are uncomfortable reading this kind of content, please do not move forward, as this story is not a good pick for you.**_

**Enjoy! xxx**

* * *

**Chapter Two: A Changing World**

**Draco's P.O.V.**

* * *

It was a pain unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Of course, he had done his research beforehand. He had spent long hours into the night in the library for the past several weeks, reading and trying to prepare himself. But nothing could have prepared him for this moment and this pain.

It was like hot, melted iron had been poured into his veins, searing and bubbling just beneath the surface. His skin felt feverish and sweaty and no matter how hard he tried to open his eyes; he couldn't bring himself to do it. He withered on the ground in complete agony, unable to do anything but sit and suffer in it. Where was that big oaf? Why hadn't he found him yet? Dripping from his fingertips, he could feel the warm liquid spilling off of him onto the forest floor, and he soaked in a pool of his own blood. What if the big oaf never came? What if he didn't get there in time? Would this all be for nothing?

A grip of panic came over him at this thought. No. This couldn't be the end. Not now.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but his body refused to listen to him. He twitched and convulsed with no real control over himself. He tried to call out, but his lungs felt heavy and his throat felt small.

Where in Merlin's name was that big stupid hairy oaf?

"Malfoy!"

It sounded so far away. Draco tried to roll himself over, to stand to his feet, to call out, to do anything. Something to attract his attention. The longer he lay there, the colder he had begun to feel. He was bleeding to death. He knew it. It was getting harder to take in deep breaths. Harder to try and move his fingers. He was dying. Slowly. Painfully.

"Merlin's beard!" The loud stomping of giant feet running towards him was unexpected heavenly music to his ears. "Malfoy, are you alrigh'? Wha' happened?"

Draco wanted to curse him as he lurched around in never-ceasing pain.

When it was obvious that he wasn't going to be able to answer any of Hagrid's questions, he felt a pair of large hands lifting him from the ground. His whole body seemed to explode from the inside out and a strangled scream finally ripped its way out of his throat. _Put me down, put me down, put me down_! He tried to scream, but all that came out were unintelligible shouts and muffled gurgles.

Before he knew it, he was being run back to the castle. He could vaguely hear Hagrid's lurid breathing as they crashed through the undergrowth and came barreling out of the forest into the moonlight. The sudden rush of wind against his sensitive skin was excruciating and he quivered, unable to communicate beyond angry shrieks and pained whimpers.

"Madame Hooch!" Hagrid was bellowing as they ascended towards the castle. "Get Madame Pomfrey! It's Malfoy! He's been attacked by somethin'!"

Draco could just open his eyes enough to see the fuzzy lights of candles and lanterns in the windows of the castle before the pain and exhaustion overtook him and he was plunged into total darkness.

* * *

He came in and out of consciousness several times. More times than he could recall. First, he saw the familiar ceiling of the Hogwarts' infirmary. Out of the corner of his eye, he had seen Madame Pomfrey bustling from one side of his bed to the other. If she was touching him in any way, he hadn't been able to feel it before his eyes slid closed again. Then, he saw the ceiling of a random corridor flying over his head as he was raced somewhere else. He could vaguely make out low whispers and multiple pairs of running feet. The third time he awoke, he had nearly been blinded by the extreme lighting of an unfamiliar place. This time, he could hear hundreds of sounds coming from all different directions as people he did not recognize rushed from one side of the room to the next, appearing over him and looking down at him with masks. He tried to call out. To ask where he was. What they were doing to him. What was happening. But just as his mouth opened, the world went dark and he was dragged back into unconsciousness.

The last time his eyes opened, he was completely alone. The silence felt thick and seemed to physically weigh him down. Or maybe it was something else keeping him still. He tried to move his arms and to sit up, but something tight secured him in place.

Squeezing his eyes to clear his blurry vision, the room around him started to come back into focus. He could see plain, white walls and a long white curtain with a lone chair next to his bedside. He listened carefully and could barely make out the hum of something beyond the curtain and the whisperings of a hushed conversation out in the hall.

His body felt grimy, encased in a dried layer of sweat and dirt. With as much energy as he could muster, he looked down at himself. Across his chest and thighs were thick, dragon-hide straps that held him to his bed. Another set of smaller straps encased his ankles and wrists, rendering him completely immobile.

The sight was incredibly unsettling, and he started to feel another layer of sweat developing over him.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and call for someone's attention, a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye startled him into silence. Out of the shadows of the far corner of the room came a familiar yet unrecognizable man. His long brown hair fell past his sharp shoulders and he eyed Draco with a look of cold calculation.

Draco felt frozen to the spot in fear and uncertainty. He couldn't help but grow frustrated when it became apparent that he had seen this man before, though for the life of him he could not fathom when or who he could possibly be. He licked his chapped lips, readying himself to speak, but before he could the man appeared beside him in movement so quick, he was almost certain the man had apparated.

"How do you feel?" The mysterious man asked. His dark eyes seemed to glint in the low lighting like a feral cat.

"Splendid." Draco spat sarcastically. He was surprised by his sudden regeneration of strength and clarity. "Who are you?"

The man ignored him as he picked up the clipboard near the end of the bed and began looking it over. Draco turned his attention away from the man and tried to tug on the straps holding him down.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man warned with looking up.

Draco glared up at him. "Oh yeah. It would be awfully terrible to be free to move about again." He gave the bindings another sharp tug. This time, they felt like they loosened in the slightest.

"If you break out of your bindings, they'll never let you leave here. Not alive anyway." The man said calmly.

This caused Draco to still in his efforts to escape. His eyes darted over to the curtain, eyeing it resignedly before he looked back up at the man by his bed, who had suddenly grown fascinated in the oil lamp on his bedside table. "Why not?" He asked.

"Because you're dangerous." The man said.

Despite having tried to uphold a superior persona for most of his life, hearing someone else describe him as dangerous made him hesitate. "It… worked?" He asked. His voice had quieted to a whisper.

The man looked over at him before he stood to his full height again. "Of course it had." His confirmation made Draco's blood grow cold. "You must listen to me carefully." The man continued. "These next few days are incredibly important, do you understand?"

It took all of Draco's effort to nod.

"In the next few days, you're going to experience pain as you've never experienced before. It will go on, no matter what the healers give you, and you must fight it."

"What if I don't?" Draco asked. "What if I just give up?"

The man looked at him seriously. "Then you will die." He said simply.

Draco turned his eyes away from the man, trying his best to appear unphased by this.

"In five days, your pain will subside." The man continued, oblivious to Draco's rising anxiety. "In five days, a man will appear in your room. He will be disguised as a healer and he will discharge you from the hospital with a full recovery report and you will be transported back to Hogwarts."

Draco blinked and looked back up at the man. "I'm not at Hogwarts?" He asked dumbly. Of course he wasn't at Hogwarts. Nothing around him looked familiar at all.

"You are at St. Mungo's. In the intensive care wing." The man said before he hurried on. "There isn't much time. Do you understand what you have to do?"

Draco's hands felt clammy when he nodded silently.

"Good. The Dark Lord will be pleased." The man said. "This will hurt." Was his only warning, before he reached out and grabbed a hold of Draco's exposed forearm.

His hand felt like heated metal and Draco screamed the moment he made contact. This pain that overtook his body and spilled into his insides, as Draco would come to realize, would not subside for several days to come.

In the midst of Draco's screams and the arrival of healers rushing to check on him, the mysterious man stepped back into the darkest corner of the room and seemed to disappear through the wall in the blink of an eye.

* * *

Draco couldn't remember much of what happened the following few nights, but the man arrived five days later, two hours after Draco's pain had finally subsided. Just like the mysterious man from the corner of the room said he would.

It was the middle of the night when the long white curtain that regularly hid Draco from sight was whisked aside. The sound forced him from his sedated sleep, and he blinked against his heavy eyelids to see who it was.

The man was, for lack of a better word, completely forgettable. He stood at an average height, with average bone structure and average colored hair styled into a normal, unsuspecting style. He said nothing as he approached Draco's bed, dressed in the familiar white uniform the other healers at St. Mungo's regularly adorned.

Draco watched wearily as the man reached forward and tugged at the straps, releasing him from the bed one limb at a time until he was completely free. As Draco slowly sat himself up, wincing at the soreness of his muscles, the man pulled a clipboard from the end of his bed and, with a flourish of his quill, signed for Draco's immediate dispatch.

Without another word, the man placed a train ticket into Draco's weak hand, grabbed a hold of his arm, and apparated into thin air.

The tug and pull of apparition was unexpected, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut in desperation to avoid getting sick. After a moment, the ground came rushing back and Draco stumbled upon impact. He took several, sharp breaths and only opened his eyes when he was certain he wasn't going to be nauseous. His reaction to apparition disturbed him. He had never had trouble with apparition before, but he felt weak with hunger and exhaustion. It took all of his energy just to keep himself upright.

When he opened his eyes, he was hesitant to find that the man who had helped him escape from St. Mungo's was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the entire platform at the random train station that he did not recognize was completely abandoned, save for a small, black locomotive that stood patiently waiting to depart.

He glanced around the platform, eyeing the dark forests surrounding him when a voice interrupted him.

"You Mr. Malfoy?" The man who spoke was squat and dirty. The brim of his hat was long and fell down to cover most of his face in shadows.

"Yes," Draco said, trying to appear authoritative.

"Come on then. We don't got all night." The man barked out before he turned and disappeared back onto the train.

Hesitating just long enough to gather himself, Draco started for the train. He carefully stepped up into the first train car and glanced down the hall, eyeing the other compartments wearily. It seemed like the entire train was completely empty.

A loud wail from the train seemed louder than usual and he winced against the sound. Just as the train started to move from the platform, Draco was overcome with the sensation that he was longer alone. Something else was in here with him. Reaching into his pocket, he felt his stomach drop when he couldn't find the familiar grip of his wand. He must have left it back at the hospital. Or maybe on the floor of the Forbidden Forest.

He turned in the hall to head for the conductor's cart when he caught sight of a figure that stalled him in his tracks. There at the end of the hall stood the familiar man who had appeared to him in his hospital room several days ago. His long hair was tied back into a ponytail, making his face look sharper than before.

"You've made it." The man commented.

Draco shifted on his feet. Something about this man unnerved him, though he wasn't quite sure what it was. A feeling deep in the pit of his stomach told him that, as dangerous as he may be now, this man was far more dangerous. "Of course I did." He tried to appear calm. If this man was who Draco thought he was, there was no room for weakness.

Without any foreseeable reason, the compartment door beside the mysterious man opened. Draco's eyes darted to look at it before he snapped them back around to look at the man, who had extended his hand out towards the empty compartment. "Come," The man said quietly. "We have much to discuss."

As much as Draco dreaded being locked into a confined space with this man, he knew he no longer had a choice in the matter. As if his feet had a mind of their own, he started forward and entered the compartment. It was smaller than the compartments he was used to on the Hogwarts Express, with enough seats to fit four people at most. He turned around when he heard the compartment door latch and eyed the man before him.

"What do we have to talk about?" He almost didn't get the whole sentence out when the man's fist came flying at his face. Before he even had time to register what had happened, his body instantly ducked out of the way. The man's other fist came up, hurtling towards his stomach. Draco felt his arms lunge out and snag hold of the man's arm, twisting it out of the way and narrowly avoiding the staggering punch.

"What the hell are you doing?" Draco hissed through clenched teeth.

"Talking." The man spat back. His free hand grabbed a hold of the collar of Draco's shirt and yanked him backward.

His knees buckled when he hit the bench and he sat down, whacking his head against the wall. Though he squeezed his eyes shut, expecting an explosive headache to suddenly rampage through his skull, he was caught off guard with how little the blow had actually hurt him. When he forced his eyes to open again, the man was already rearing back to throw another punch at him. In a moment of desperation, Draco lifted his feet, pulling his knees into his chest before he pushed out and slammed the heels of his dress shoes into the man's chest. The blow knocked him backward onto the adjacent bench and Draco scrambled to his feet.

Before the man had a chance to counter, Draco grabbed for the front of his shirt, hauling him up with surprising ease and slamming him hard against the window.

Despite the shift in power, the man seemed highly amused. A dark sparkle glinted in his feral looking eyes. "Good. It did work."

"What did?" Draco spat, feeling incredibly frustrated. "Why would you –"

"Your teeth." The man said simply. His hands came up and shoved Draco's shoulders with enough force to stagger him backward and release the man from his tight grip.

After he righted himself, Draco's tongue instinctually roamed about the inside of his mouth, feeling his teeth for any abnormalities. All seemed ordinary until the tip of his tongue grazed over his top canines. Without a mirror to be certain, they felt longer, and he started to notice the dull ache in his jaw now that his adrenaline had settled. His days spent in the hospital after his attack in the forest came rushing back to him. "Oh… that." He mumbled, unsure what else to say.

The man straightened out his collar before he sat himself down on the bench that Draco had kicked him onto a few moments ago. "Please," the man said politely, gesturing to the seat across from him, as though they hadn't just tussled a few moments ago. "Sit down."

"You're not going to punch me again, are you?" Draco couldn't help but sneer before he sat himself down. He ran a hand through his hair and avoided the man's steady gaze. He wanted nothing more than to be alone.

"There will be no more need of that." The man said. Suddenly he grew serious. "The Dark Lord grows restless. He believes that Dumbledore is getting closer to figuring it out."

Draco turned from watching the dark trees pass by the window to look over at the man in confusion. "Figuring what out?"

The man hesitated. "It has to be done soon." He continued after a moment, as though Draco had not spoken at all.

"How does he expect me to get Potter alone?" Draco asked. He could already feel himself growing frustrated. "Granger and Weasley have been up his ass every day since day one."

"There must be sometimes when he is alone." The man said certainly.

"There isn't," Draco argued back, glaring at him.

"Whether there is or isn't, it makes no difference." The man countered. He appeared to be growing just as frustrated with Draco as Draco was with him. "Should it happen, you know which network to use." The man stood to his feet, as though to conclude their discussion.

"My wand," Draco said without thinking. The man stopped what he was doing and looked at him. "I lost it." He muttered.

"Your wand is nothing but a novelty item now." The man said simply.

Draco's eyes flashed up to look at him. "What?" He asked.

"Your magic is… stunted." The man explained this casually, as though Draco had already been told about this.

"So, what, I can't use magic anymore?" Draco could feel his adrenaline returning. Losing his magic had not been a part of the deal. No one had said anything about giving up his blood right.

"Of course you can still use magic." The man looked annoyed now like he was explaining something to a toddler. "But with what you have now, magic is child's play. You won't be needing –"

"I. Want. It. Back." Draco argued. His jaw began to ache all over again and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his mouth closed.

The man eyed him closely, looking deep in thought. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he said, "I'll see what I can do."

With the man admitting defeat, Draco felt the muscles in his shoulders loosening.

"Now, if that is all –"

"What exactly does he expect me to do once I get Potter alone?" Draco interrupted him.

"Bring him in, of course. It should be no problem, considering." The man waved a hand over him, clearly talking about his new predicament.

Draco grew silent. The familiar tugging in his stomach was back. He turned his eyes away from the man once more.

"Should there be any trouble, you know how to contact me." The man continued. He pulled from his pockets a pair of black satin gloves and slide them onto his hands. "Just do me a favor and don't contact me. It would be best, for all of us."

Draco winced as he listened to the man unlatch the compartment door and pull it open. "How do I live like this?" He asked, his voice coming out quieter than he would have liked it to. A long moment of silence followed, and he peered over at the door, wondering if the man had already left. But instead, he saw the man standing in the corridor of the train car just outside the door, staring at him.

His face was stoic and cold as he stared Draco down. "You don't have a choice." The man said darkly. Something in his voice sounded angry and resentful.

Draco felt himself instinctively look down at the tips of his dirty dress shoes. It had been several days since he had changed, and he longed for the sweet relief of a warm shower. When he finally pulled his head back up to look at the door, the man had disappeared, leaving Draco alone and disoriented.

The ache in his jaw had dulled but hadn't completely gone away. His stomach twisted and churned of its own accord and his eyes felt sunken and tired. He gripped the edge of his teeth so tight until his knuckles turned white. Just when he was certain that he would be taking this train ride alone, he got the same familiar feeling that he was not alone.

He shot to his feet, eyeing the open compartment door with unease. Had the man come back? Perhaps it was someone else. Someone more sinister. He wished for nothing more than to have his wand back in his possession.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway, causing Draco to jump.

"Anything from the trolley?" The woman's face was thin and sickly looking. She appeared to be a few years older than him, though her posture suggested she might older than she looked.

"What?" Draco asked. He couldn't help the angry tone that slipped out as he forced himself to relax.

"The trolley. Any sweets?" The woman pulled into view a small trolley cart filled with the usual snacks and drinks.

Draco stared at the cart with a mingled expression of longing and disgust. His stomach rumbled from deep within, but the scent of the chocolates sent a wave of nausea over him that he wasn't expecting. In all of his research, he knew that ingesting something as sweet as chocolate could be enough to make him violently ill. For now, he was only allowed one item on his menu, but he didn't know if he had the courage to do what needed to be done.

"Sir?" The woman asked. Her voice pulled him harshly from his thoughts and he looked back up at her. She was fragile and clearly hid her slender frame under an array of baggy clothes. "Anything?"

It was the strangest sensation he had ever experienced. Somewhere, deep within her, he could hear the light thumps of her blood as it raced through her body. Her perfume was nauseating, but underneath it was a scent that called to him. The ache in his jaw grew steadily stronger. He wanted her to leave. He felt uneasy and fixated, a combination of emotions that he had never experienced before.

"No. Nothing." He muttered, clenching his teeth down as tight as he could. The ache in his jaw was almost unbearable now.

"Are you alright sir?" The woman asked. Her foot crossed the threshold of the compartment.

"Yes." Draco snapped. "Just get out." He pushed her out of the room with enough force to throw her against the wall of the train cart before he grabbed the compartment door and slammed it shut. He forced the latch down and sat on one of the benches. His clenched his hands into tight fists and watched as they shook uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes, trying to relax.

The world had suddenly changed around him, and the mysterious man was right. He would have no choice but to change with it.


End file.
